Like a lock clicking into place.
They’re both here. At my table. In my house. Where I’ve always wanted them to be.
But as I watch Jules stir her eggs absentmindedly and glance at me from beneath her lashes, I wonder—how long?
How long until she runs again? How long until she decides she’s ready to stay?
I’m not sure which answer will come first.
But right now, I’ll take this moment—this morning—and hold onto it with both hands.
***
Jules keeps herself busy behind the counter, moving from task to task like she’s afraid to stand still. I sit in a booth tucked away in the corner, my laptop open but my focus frayed. Tate is content, building a new LEGO set beside me, while Sarge pointedly ignores my presence as if doing so might make me disappear.
“What are you working on?” Connie’s warm voice breaks through the fog as she refills my coffee.
“Business plan,” I answer, rubbing a tired hand over my face.
“Self-employment not all it’s cracked up to be?” she guesses with a small smile.
“Actually,” I exhale, “it’s going too well. I’m trying to figure out if I should expand or start turning down clients.”
Connie chuckles, giving me a knowing look. “Seems like life’s finally throwing you some daisies, Corbin.”
“Maybe,” I mutter, taking a long sip of coffee.
Her gaze softens as she leans in slightly. “How’s Jules holding up?”
I glance toward the counter where Jules wipes down the same spot, lost in thought. “Doing her best, I think. It’s a lot.”
Connie nods thoughtfully, glancing over at her, too. “You know,” she says gently, “sometimes life has a way of forcing two stubborn people together when they won’t do it on their own.”
I shake my head, fighting a smile. “I think we’re figuring it out in our own way.”
“Hmm,” Connie hums, unconvinced as she walks back to the register.
Tate stretches beside me. “Dad, I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”
“Alright, bud. Go ahead,” I say, ruffling his hair.
As I turn back to my laptop, a shadow darkens my screen. I glance up to find Sarge standing there, arms crossed like a brick wall I’m supposed to climb over.
“You planning to camp out in this booth all day?” he asks, voice edged with that protective big brother bite.
“Until Jules is ready to leave,” I say evenly.
“She should be staying with me,” Sarge says, more gentle this time, but firm.
I’m tired. Too tired to play his games today. “Okay.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
I close my laptop slowly and meet his stare head-on. “I’m not doing this with you, Sarge.”
“She’s all I’ve got,” he reminds me, like I’ve somehow forgotten what Jules means to him.
“I know.”
